Several minutes later, both were back in their seats.
Elle's fingers fumbled weakly at the waistband of her shorts, her thighs still slick with sweat and sticky release as she tried to tug the fabric up over her legs.
The material clung to her damp skin, dragging against the mess between her thighs as she finally managed to pull them into place.
Don watched from the driver's seat, his own breathing relaxed, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel as his gaze traced the flushed curve of her cheek.
Elle remained quiet for a few moments afterward.
The cabin settled into a comfortable stillness broken only by the distant chorus of insects beyond the windows.
Elle smoothed her palms over her clothes, pressing out wrinkles that only she seemed concerned about.
A moment later, she brushed the back of her hand across her lips to remove some "sticky" remnants before letting both hands settle neatly in her lap.
The change was immediate.
